A Collection of Nonsense
by Squirrel Crumpet
Summary: [undergoing renovation]
1. Furyoku is for Squares

**Furyoku is for Squares**

Disclaimer: Shaman King isn't mine

* * *

"Such a beautiful morning it 'tis today!" exclaimed none other than Hao. "A morning like this...make me want to use my oversoul! Without furyoku, of course, because furyoku is for squares!"

Everyone who is anyone who has seen/read the anime/manga know that without furyoku, no matter how hard you try, you cannot create the oversoul. Hao, being ever so diligent and quick-witted, knew this full well, but did not actually care for this fact at all.

He kept on trying to create the oversoul without his furyoku, because "Furyoku is for squares!" "How...how can this be?" said Hao who was questioning the air. "Why should I have the need to use my furyoku? My pants are all that I need! And YOU, you insignificant specks of dust…BEGONE!"

After many failed attempts at trying to make the oversoul, Hao, being the stubborn child that he is, did not give up. At first, he'd attempted to get his oversoul to appear "just like that!" which proved unsuccessful. (he tried doing this while watching the Teletubbies, and who can concentrate, I ask you, while watching such a wonderful show?)

Then, Hao tried to get into the oversoul by curling up into a ball and repeating over and over, "Furyoku is for squares...furyoku is for squares...furyoku is for squares...etc." He also referred to his pants for help, as any normal person would.

This proved fruitful, for his pants suggested that he go take a bath. To make a long story short, he took a bath. In chocolate drops.

"I...I refuse to believe that furyoku is cool! I refuse to believe that it is in fashion! I shouldn't have to use furyoku! I'm the almighty Hao, with the magnificent pants that cannot be matched! Furyoku is for squares, for Yoh! (sorry Yoh fans...I had to do this...my stuffed animals told me to, so please don't tackle me...)

While Hao was outside with a tennis racket, trying to make his Spirit of Fire become the oversoul, some random children in random streetcars in random gangster outfits pointed and laughed. And laughed. And laughed. And laughed, until they could not bear to laugh anymore. (which is when Hao burned them.)

It was then that Ren came to save the day! "This has got to be the most pathetic thing I have ever witnessed in my entire life." said Ren, who was watching Hao act like a stick of butter on the ground. He laughed his head off quite thoroughly.

Hao, hearing the laughter, got into a yoga position, trying to appear like a yoga addict. It was a feat in which he failed extravagantly, I can tell you that. Ren skipped across the fields of burnt limes that were separating Hao and himself to confront Hao.

"Hao...don't you know that acting like a stick a butter won't help you get into oversoul mode? You have to use your furyoku!" exclaimed Ren.

"Me? Use my furyoku? That...that's hilarious! You expect me, the almighty Hao, to use furyoku, like you? ha ha ha! Furyoku is for squares such as yourself!" replied Hao.

"Furyoku is NOT for squares! Furyoku is for those who want to be buff and muscular like me!" said Ren.

"Like you? Who'd want to be like you? You're a _square_! Because furyoku is for squares!" said Hao, cracking himself up.

"That is _so_ uncool! I'm leaving this popsicle stand! You can act like a stick of butter for all I care!" shouted a rather upset Ren. "Oh...and just so you know...furyoku isn't for squares...it's for _rectangles_." Then, Ren ran away for whatever reasons.

"For rectangles? Hmm...I may have to ponder that quite a bit, but I was almost certain furyoku was for squares...It IS for squares! I know it is! Ren has probably hugged too many squirrels in his day to differentiate between squares and rectangles, that fool!" thought Hao aloud.

Whether you thought furyoku is for squares or for rectangles, the moral of the story is this: You should always hug squirrels.


	2. Labeling Fun

**Labeling Fun**

"My label maker, I do love you so..." said Hao as he stroked his brand new label maker lovingly. "With this wonderful invention, I'll become the SHAMAN KING! Wuah ha ha! Then, all those other weaklings will bow before me as I demonstrate my disgustingly powerful power! With this, the...um...uh...LABEL MAKER!"

He skipped gleefully over to the Shaman convention, held in honor of flying squirrels. Other than for eating butter, there really wasn't any other reason for showing up.

"Look at them... conversing with each other...stuffing their faces with butter... so blissfully unaware that I, Hao, have a LABEL MAKER that could kill them all!" said he by the name of Hao when finally arriving at the convention and laughing a most frightening laugh.

Hours passed. Hao stuck countless labels upon the backs of the many unsuspecting Shaman. He made one especially for Anna, one that said, "I smile when the calendars are watching!" 'Oh my!' thought Hao. 'I make me chuckle!'

Ren's was "One with the moo juice." HoroHoro's special label was "I am a fool for pants." Myriad other labels were made in addition to those listed.

As he was about to climb onto a table, a squirrel climbed up his leg. He tried shaking it off. He tried putting butter on it. Why wasn't anything working? It was then that he spotted the label maker, the wonderful, delightful label maker.

He put a box that had neither a top nor bottom around the squirrel. Holding the evil labeling machine, he labeled the squirrel repetitively. The labels all said the same thing—"I am a squirrel." When he finished, he laughed a long, sinister laugh.

At this point, the squirrel was completely covered in labels. Except for its eyes, mouth, and nose, the squirrel resembled not a squirrel, but a label-fied mammal. HoroHoro, pitying the poor mammal, ran up to it and gave it great big hug. Hao skipped off to the punch bowl, in order to douse himself in raw eggs.

A few screams were heard when the Shaman realized that there were labels on their backs! Such ill-fated doom had fallen upon them. They all concluded that this must be because they were in the presence of the almighty butter stick!

That conclusion is of course, wrong. It points to one and one thing only—HAO'S NOSE! How could they not know that? It's not like it's rocket science or anything, so it eludes the authoress how they couldn't possibly figure that out.

After immersing himself in raw eggs for at least the hundredth time, Hao went through a series off odd emotions that really couldn't be classified. His wonderful, silky hair had been egg—ravaged! Oh, the injustice of it all!

As he was running around in circles, trying to make his hair beautiful once again, someone found the label maker. That someone was Lyserg, who immediately sat on it when he read the label attached to it. (the label said: "Your childish hands are touching an evil tool of Hao—sama. Drop it. Now. Or else you'll drink calcium pills at your own expense.")  
Lyserg did not care very much for the junk pertaining to calcium pills. He would love ingesting calcium pills at his own expense!

After sitting on the label maker for countless hours, it did not hatch like an egg as Lyserg had expected it to. It was then that Lyserg thought of the bestest, most ingenious plan ever. He was going to put it in sulfuric acid, and then stick it up his nose!

When Lyserg had run off with the labeling contraption, Hao suddenly realized that his machine for wreaking havoc was gone. He looked for it in his pants. Nope, not there. He looked in everyone else's pants. It wasn't there either.

He searched for it in his handy dandy egg carton. The turn out was no label maker, but some rather nice looking eggs. Desperate, he turned his "squirrel senses" on, in order to laugh mindlessly. As quickly as they were turned on, they were just as quickly turned off when Lyserg's screams made themselves apparent in Hao's ears.

Lyserg had, indeed, stuck the sulfuric acid covered contraption up his nose. "It burns! It burns worse than the time I stared at the Sun for fifty eight hours straight!" he screamed, running into walls that made him scream very much like a screaming person.

Hao went over to see what happened. After inspecting the now unconscious Lyserg, he took the label maker out of Lyserg's nose, stole the green haired boy's pants and laughed thoroughly. "That's what you get for stealing my label maker! Now, EAT THIS!" he said joyously while forcing the dowser to drink calcium pills.

A pet billy goat that belonged to no one came forth from Lyserg's pants pocket. It pranced around for a while, until Hao jumped on it. The impact from the jump made the frail animal vanish in a puff of glittery purple stuff, never to be seen again. Hao ran off into the distance, sucking raw egg yolks from holes made in his precious eggs.

An hour, 2 minutes, and 35 seconds later, Lyserg had one of the most wonderful awakenings in his entire life. He felt so strong, so calcium fortified! The power of calcium had even taken away the burning sensation from the sulfuric acid!

Lyserg, with his calcium fortified muscles, ripped a sheet of paper in half to demonstrate his terrifying new power. What he got in return wasn't applause nor praise, but laughter.  
"I'm just too cool for my own good!" he exclaimed, running away from the masses. He ran to a mysterious village where he spent the rest of days trying to become a toilet paper roll.

Hao, in the meantime, wore Lyserg's pants as a hat. It made him feel quite the female. The convention ended when Hao came to his senses and ordered everyone to go home or else. "Or else what?" they asked. "Or else I'll make all of you have unibrows, that's what." Hao replied.

"You can't do that!" Ren said. "You can't make me, the great RenRen have a UNIBROW!" "Can too." "Can not."

"If I say I can, then I most definitely can," Hao said, taking out a permanent marker.  
He walked up to Ren, and targeted Ren's forehead. Hao was aiming for the empty space where the two eyebrows did not meet. Ren flinched as the marker made contact, but did not move for he did not want a mustache in addition to a unibrow. Slowly but surely the marker made a nice, even line on Ren's forehead, creating a unibrow.

"There you go! It's looks as though it was meant to be." Hao said, handing Ren a mirror. Ren took the mirror and looked at himself for the longest time ever. "I've been UNIFIED!" Ren cried at last, running into a parked car repetitively.

"It won't come off, you know! The ink's guaranteed to say on for at least another century!" Hao called after him.

"Cheerio, everyone! I feel it my civil duty to go frolic in the woodland with squirrels!" Hao said, bidding them farewell. "I hope you all find a wonderful place where you too can wear pants freely!"

The underlying theme, you say? The one that has been expertly weaved into the many words of this chapter, right? Theme? WHAT THEME? There is no theme, my friends. Just nonsense.

* * *

**To my reviewers who make me chuckle!**  
**Invader Neo**-I thank thee, kind soul, for reviewing mine story! Tra la la! Thanks thanks thanks! By the way...YOU'RE COOL!

**Celestial Goddess**-That's sensei to you, bub! Ha ha! Just kidding! Thanks for thinking that my writing is random and funny. It make me feel fuzzy inside.

**MerndaSaysDownWithWormtail**-Once again, you've reviewed all my stories even though you did not have to! You make me want to punch you and yet at the same time I want to give you a great big hug! The billy goat's in thurr!

**admin**-A squirrel gauge, eh? I want one too! Where do you buy them?


	3. Wallow in Your Mucus

**Wallow in Your Mucus**

Disclaimer: Shaman King isn't mine. The idea about burnt cookies leading to the apocalypse belongs to Celestial Huntress.

* * *

"Horo...please...don't forget..." Ren wheezed, while sitting upright in his white hospital gown on his so-called deathbed.

"Yes, Ren, go on! I'm listening!" Horo cried, tears pouring out of his sockets uncontrollably, sitting on the left side of Ren's bed, and holding both hands of the patient.

"Before I die...could you...could you please...dump this mucus bucket over my head?" Ren said, indicating the bucket in his lap.

"H-h-huh?" Horo said in the midst of tears. Then, remembering that Ren probably wouldn't be in this world any longer, took the bucket in his hands dumped the slimy, yellow, mucus over Ren's head. It oozed slowly out of the bucket, forming a small pool around Ren. After doing that, Horo hugged his pet squirrel thoroughly.

"As I lie here dying, I'll remember that the last thing I did on Earth was wallow in my own mucus. Thank you, Horo, for making my last day here on Earth meaningful," Ren said, wallowing in his mucus. With one last cough and one last wallow, his eyes closed forever, never to open again.

If HoroHoro had the IQ of the squirrel, then perhaps he would have recognized that this was all an elaborate joke. Unfortunately, he does not, therefore producing an extrmely pathetic storyline.

"Nooooo! RenRen!" Horo cried, squishing his butter snack out of its fancy packaging. The wonderful squirrel ran off, for some followers of Horo's squirrel had congregated in the hospital parking lot. They all wore crispy looking sweaters and formal pants.

"You forgot your ex-lax, Ren!" Horo shouted, crying loudly. How horrible it was to journey to the spirit world without first consuming laxatives! And yet...how amusing it would be to watch Ren's face, twisted in funny shapes, when constipation made itself present.

"You're so stupid, Horo-nii," Pirka said, skipping forth from behind the white hospital curtain, wearing a flamboyant unicorn costume. "You walked straight into the cleverly concealed trap the authoress set up."

"How could I have walked right into this trap? Doesn't reading the phonebook and memorizing its contents prepare you for things like this in life?" Horo said, asking no one in particular.

"Bwa ha ha! This wallowing is great fun!" Ren exclaimed from his hospital bed, wallowing in his viscid substance, waking from his formerly eternal slumber.

"How cooooooould you, Ren? You had me all worried over your so-called death! I'm going to pound your face in! And you call yourself my bestest buddy!" Horo said, speaking to a stuffed animal.

"Horo-nii? Did you not hear me? It was all an elaborate joke, and it was the only thing the authoress could think of before putting her head in toilet water out of defeat!" Pirka said.

"You _idiot_...I'm on the hospital bed!" Ren said to Horo, while watching him pound the daylights out of the inanimate object. _"Does my face really resemble that of a stuffed animal's?" _Ren thought, worried that his face was quite unlike a face. _"I think this is going to have a big impact upon how I'm going to grow up..."_

Pirka—or however you spell her name—donned her flamboyant unicorn costume, &danced in circles with her newfound friends. They both strangely resembled an old man and the other a piece of fruit. Together, they all formed a theory that if anyone were to bake cookies and burn them purposefully or unintentionally, it would lead to the apocalypse. Which, of course, is completely illogical and would probably never happen.

"This plastic is yummy! Come try some, Ren!" Horo said, licking and then attempting to bite the plastic vase of flowers that had been placed on Ren's nightstand.

"That's quite alright! I prefer mucus over plastic, thank you very much!" Ren happily said, who was still wallowing in his mucus.

"Stupid, stupid Horo-nii..." Pirka sighed. "This theory is most likely a scientific breakthrough! Armed with this single theory, my friends, we'll overthrow the government!"

"Ren...is Pirka scaring you as much as she's scaring me?" Horo said, munching on a butter snack.

"No, of course not. I think when she goes all crazy and random like this, it brings out her masculine light more." was Ren's reply.

Horo looked, and sure enough, Pirka was emitting a light that was manly. "My pants, Ren, you're right! She's emitting a manly light, a light that has all things masculine in it!"

"What I meant was that Pirka's inner man comes through when she acts...psychotic," Ren said slowly so that Horo would have time to comprehend it.

"Don't call me a pimp!" Pirka said "pimp slapping" Ren with her unicorn hove, which caused Ren to fall forward. (Just what exactly is a pimp, anyway?)

"Yay!" Ren shouted as his face landed into a bucket of mucus that a certain person, who eerily resembled an old man but wasn't quite an old man, had happily produced at the last second.

"What? Pirka, you never told me that you were... PHLOGOPITE!" Horo said spitting out his butter snack, which splattered across the white hospital walls.

"Now, now, Horo, that's very un-lady like of you!" Pirka scolded, handing Horo a handkerchief.

Horo took the lacy white thing and ripped his outfit...to reveal what Ren and Pirka could have gone without seeing their entire lives. In the midst of shredded clothes and a lacy white handkerchief, there stood Horo in lederhosen.

Upon seeing this, Ren did, of course, wallow in his mucus once again. Pirka made a snorting noise and perused through a calendar from 1965.

Following this odd string of events, a sock puppet show is in order, to save us all from ourselves.

* * *

**The SOCK PUPPET SHOW**

The beginning of the show includes various scenes of socks being tortured. Some extremely annoying music is heard in the background, and scenes of socks speaking fluently in Latin accompany it.

"Blorg!" an anonymous sock that resembled a monkey said.

"What he means by this, people, is that there is no squid. In this simple, non-existent word, he is telling us all that socks should be the dominant gender." sock reporter general pacifier II said.

"I think it insane that this cow was fed quality socks yesterday!" a blue fluffy sock said, pointing to a picture of a cow from a picture book.

"Yes! That cow has no idea how much that sock that's going through its digestive system would be worth on the Sock Market!" sock man 56 go pants go said.

"Did you hear that?" a sock with many holes said. "An adorable squirrel is going to take control of our misguided lives!"

"You're completely wrong, you feminine sock!" a sock with a mustache said. "I have betrayed you all for this plastic bag! Run in fear as an INCERDIBLE FORCE that you have yet to comprehend conquers you all!"

"How terribly frightening!" the socks all screamed and ran in fear as an incredibly cheap scene of terror is shown with artificial food coloring.

A sock who has a nice, blood thirsty picture of a muffin on it pops up and bids everyone farewell:

"That's it for this week, children, adults, and old men! Next up is THE RETURN OF THE BEAST. Adieu, my friends, adieu."

* * *

"How terribly disgusting!" Horo said. "That was educational, and it made sense! For some odd reason, I feel the strangest urge ever. It's telling me to worship my socks..."

Pirka happily takes the calendar and rips it in half, then proceeded to recycle it. "I'm going to save the environment, calendar by calendar!" she said proudly.

"Mua ha ha! Wallow wallow!" Ren said as he tried to get his face out the mucus bucket.

* * *

**Inulover4eva**-My pants, you review so promptly! It is pretty wrong...you wanting to be that label maker...if only label makers could look like eggs, too!

**Celestial Huntress**-You were the only one who suggested I do something! That makes you extra-super-wicked-exuberantly special! Did you spot your idea? It's there! I think it's a pity though that I couldn't expand upon it, though that is what I get for being a beast.

**resurie**-It's a pity that story was a mere one-shot! Then...then...SQUIRRELS COULD RULE US ALL! Yay! Please update "I'm just using you"! Please? I think I know you know you want to…right?

**MerndaSaysDownWithWormtail**: I heart your random noise making, dear. Remember that, now.


	4. Theory of Plate Tectonics

**Theory of Plate Tectonics**

Disclaimer: Neither Shaman King nor do the theory of plate tectonics belong to me. Yoh conquering the world with oranges came from the mind of resurie.

* * *

Yoh and Lyserg, both middle aged men (30 year olds, in fact), are sitting in a sand box, at the height of their sand box playing career. They both have plastic airplanes in each hand.

"Pilot to copilot...psshhhtt, over." Yoh said in his best pilot voice.

"Copilot reporting...WHOA!...did you see that, pilot?...A huge cumulus cloud wants to attack our flying shuttle!...psshhhtt, over." Lyserg replied, swerving his body to the side in order to steer the plane away from doom.

"Copilot, I think your pants are undone and that you have had too many Smarties before take off...psshhhtt, over." Yoh said, gliding his toy airplanes across the surface of the sand, his nose running steadily. (Which is very unbecoming of a middle aged man, mind you)

"Pilot, you are WRONG!...I only ate...(counts fingers)...FIVE Smarties before I boarded the plane, and...(checks pants)..My pants are buttoned and the zipper is zipped, thank you very much! Speaking of which, would you like an extra absorbent calendar for your extra absorbent paper needs?...psshhhtt. over."

"What he needs is this," Anna said, towering above the pilot and copilot, an orange sphere on her outstretched palm.

"Nooo! Not that, Anna! ANYTHING but THAT!" Yoh cried, eyes searching madly for an escape route.

"You will eat it. You will eat and you will _like_ it." Anna said, stuffing the entire orange into his gaping mouth, peel and all.  
"What's this?" Yoh said, asking no one in particular, chomping away on the sphere of vitamin C. "My runny nose...is no longer runny! That...that...thing you fed me was MAGICAL, Anna!"

"It's called an 'orange', Yoh, and within it was vitamin C you dummo." Anna said, shaking her head, feeling the strangest desire to lick something.

"Pilot—it is as you say! That orange...isn't any ordinary...orange. It is as you say—MAGIC!...psshhhtt, over." Lyserg said, eyeing the remnants of the magical slightly oblate spheroid.

"Indeed, copilot Lyserg. They're all lies! Vitamin C, my grandmother!" Yoh shouted, getting bashed on the head by a licorice...thing, his grandmother being the bashing woman.

A two-ton bag of oranges appears next to Yoh, and he grabs the licorice thing and stuffs it in his pants for safekeeping. His grandmother, in turn, takes the bag of oranges and starts whacking him on the head quite violently with it.

"Gaaah! Pilot! Stop the evil licorice-bashing-orange-whacking-woman before your brilliant plan is foiled!...psshhhtt, over." Lyserg said frantically.

Yoh takes the bag or oranges from his grandmother. She runs away, screaming, "How dare you attack your own grandmother, pilot!"

"Copilot Lyserg, I think that serendipity has cast a dark shadow upon our well being and that we must take on this grave situation with the utmost seriousness...psshhhtt, over." Yoh said. "We will annihilate those who dare to get in our way of world domination by way of the oranges!" "O-o-o-okay, p-p-p-pilot!" Lyserg said trembling, hiding underneath a park bench.

"These oranges in all their orange-like glory will serve us well. They will momentarily distract those humans while we, the supreme pilot and copilot, take on their armada of French workbooks. They will know what it is like to be betrayed by their most favored fruit!" Yoh said.

"Wonderful, pilot! I applaud your ingenious thinking!" Lyserg said, trying to stand, but bumps his head on the bench instead. After several unsuccessful tries, he manages to free himself. He runs to a Popsicle stand and steals the cart, throwing the contents aside.

"YOH!" Anna shouted, appearing out of nowhere. Yoh's blood ran cold. Even one who wants to entire dominance of the world through the power of oranges fears their wife.

"Nani?" Yoh whispered.

"You forgot to finish the rest of your slightly oblate spheroids," she said, pointing to the two-ton bag.

"Those are for world domination, not eating, Anna!" he replied in earnest.

"Oh really? Than perhaps you wouldn't mind eating them all?"

"Iie..." he said, weeping. How he had wanted to have complete dominance of the world!

"Is that ending even logical?" Lyserg asked the audience, sitting in the Popsicle cart's freezer, whistling nonchalantly and dueling with the best of those people who duel.

* * *

AN: I named this chapter "Theory of Plate Tectonics" because the story had nothing to do with that particular theory, therefore the titling makes perfect sense. It seems as though world domination is a reoccurring theme in my stories...

**resurie**: I took "Fly Away Butterfly" (that was chapter 2) off FF .net, so in a twisted way, you did review chapter 3. I apologize for any confusion or damage to your brain this may have caused. (I say that in a nice way...) When you gave me that idea, I think you meant his headphones, but I took it literally and used the fruit (yay)! Thank you for updating your story, friend! Hopefully, inspiration shall come your way, thus causing you to update! Woot woot...

**KimBob**: What would a comedy be without producing disgusting images in the mind of the reader? For one thing, the comedy would be...so...not disgusting! And wouldn't that be a shame...

**darkshadowgirl**: The stuff you wrote about Marco was funny! I am elated that you thought my story amusing. Perhaps that means I've fulfilled the duty of writing a comedy?

**RenFan33** (sorry if the underscores aren't there): To your crazy ideas, I can honestly say that they were random. There were so random, in fact, they I couldn't make any sense out of them!

**Karasuu**: I am a bowtard. I do not know what "ROFL" means. Please, feel free to poke me.

**Pyro and Proud of it/Proud to be Pyro**: Wow, you have alternate personalities? I don't, seeing as how my brains would not even fill a tea cup. And your wee friends are rather...friendly.


	5. Stick Figure Revolution

**Stick Figure Revolution**

Chocolove had created a comic strip with stick figures, and it was a masterpiece to be admired throughout the ages. Horo, Ren, and Faust were rendered as themselves, without the added weight of flesh or blood.

He proceeded to show it to Ren, for Ren was in the first panel. "Lookie, lookie, Ren! Isn't is fantabulous?"

"Why, may I ask, are you showing me this paper with Arabic on it?" Ren said, looking at the comic upside down. (I'm not poking fun at the language, but at Ren's stupidity.)

"Stupid Ren! Apparently, you're reading it the wrong way!" Chocolove said matter-of-factly. "See? That's you there, in the first panel, striking an underwear pose!"

"An—_underwear_—pose?"Ren said incredulously, turning the paper right side up. "Ah, I see. How coooould you, Chocolove?"

Chocolove didn't respond. Ren, whose tears were streaming, was throttling him. That is, until Horo skipped by.

"Oh dear!" Horo said in a high-pitched voice, clapping both hands to his face. "It seems as though Chocolove is getting throttled!"

Then, as though it were by fate and not some plot device, Horo picked up the fallen comic strip that had blown away from where Ren and Chocolove were. He read it quickly, and felt disgusted, happy and upset all at once.

"Chocolove! Why did you draw everyone naked?" Horo said, puzzled.

"What do you mean?" Chocolove said, freeing himself from Ren.

Ren ran into the street and laughed at the atoms of air surrounding him. He then stole a purse from some old man he didn't even know and started rummaging through it. (That's right. An old man carrying a purse!)

"In this entire comic, no one, not even me, has clothing!" Horo said indignantly.

"They're stick figures, buddy. Stick figures have no need for clothes," Chocolove explained.

"Okay. Fine. Whatever. I don't care if everyone else is naked. But I will not settle for being displayed to the public as...this..._naked_...thing!"

"Alright. I'll agree to your pathetic demand," Chocolove said, scribbling on some clothes for Horo on the paper. "There. Isn't it beauteous?"

"Yay!" Horo squealed, snatching the paper away from Choco and scanning madly through every panel. "Can I show it to Faust, Chocolove? huh? huh? Can I?"

"Why not? No one should be deprived of the right to look at my glorious artwork!"

Just as Horo was preparing to leave, it started to rain. From the sky fell a surprised Faust and a sink.

"What the eggs? A sink?" Horo and Chocolove said in unison, completely ignoring Faust who was rolling around on his backside in pain.

"I suppose," Faust said, picking himself up and then the sink as well. "I was in the bathroom washing my hands a few minutes ago, and... I feel through the sky!" he finished dramatically, demonstrating how he had fallen from the sky.

"Wow! That's never happened to ME before, Faust! My envy could fill up all the toilet bowls of the western hemisphere!" Horo said enviously. "Ah, well, before I kill myself out of self pity, would you like to look at this?" Horo said, placing the comic in Faust's hands.

"...how very..._AMAZING_!" Faust said after perusing the comic, his eyes as big as saucers.

"That's because **I'm** amazing!" Chocolove said proudly, jabbing not one, but four thumbs at his rather large head.

Faust was washing his hands at the moment, and Horo wanted to join in the fun, which makes no sense at all seeing as how the sink doesn't have proper plumbing. Think of it as a force that we do not comprehend but its existence is known and feared.

"You can take my faucet, Horo, but you can't take my FREEDOM!" Faust cried, steeping aside so that Horo could wash his hands.

"Surrender your faucet and your freedom need not get taken away!" Horo said loudly, although Faust had already surrendered the faucet.

"Freedom, your bum! I must experience the strange, tingly sensation of washing one's hands for myself!" Chocolove said enthusiastically, pushing Horo aside so that he too could wash his hands. Outraged, Horo did an interpretive dance.

Ren, in the meantime, gave the old man's purse back after rummaging through it thoroughly and after worshipping the ground it lay on. In return, he was rewarded with a trip to the ice cream parlor for being "a good citizen".

Faust, Horo and Chocolove took turns washing their hands and then examining the wrinkles it created in their skin, wowing themselves every time, even if the process had been done thrice and was getting old. They couldn't quite get a grip on their fascination.

* * *

**resurie**: I've had reviews that were longer than yours, so don't worry; it's not like I'm going to tackle you to the ground! It's rather fascinating to think that people actually say such things while curled up in ball form! I thank you for liking this story, and it makes me want to...dance like an idiot knowing that. Ha ha. Blorg! I wish I had new neighbors! Mine are old, crusty, and...boring.

**RenFan33**: For some highly irritating and stupid reason unbeknownst to me, the underscores aren't showing up! The last chapter was written in a limited amount of time, so that may be why it wasn't quite as good as the others. (I myself laughed at that one most, though!) It's funny to think that your friend borrowed your name and reviewed while you were using the **_TOILET_**! (Sorry. I just really like that word.) And my friend told my what ROFL meant because I asked her and she was like, "I can't believe you didn't know what that meant." I laughed heartily at this.

**KimBob**: Yes, disgusting things at their best.

**Asakihe**: Bwa ha ha! And so, SquirrelFraulein makes her return!

**darkshadowgirl:** You seem to really like peanut butter. I'm not fond of it, really, but the crunchy kind suits me well for all occasions. And is that a threat? Is it? Because I like threats:)


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